Just Five Minutes
by Working-On-Sanity
Summary: Tsuna remembers the wonderful heat that overtook his body as he stared down at an infant Gokudera. He wasn't a pedophile - he just wanted to see if he would feel that way again. It's a good thing Gokudera will do anything for the Tenth. Shota/2759
1. Pursuit of the Oblivious

**JUST FIVE MINUTES**

**Summary: **Tsuna remembers that odd, yet pleasant heat in his stomach that had gripped him while he stared down at an infant Gokudera. He wasn't a pedophile - he just wanted to see if he'd feel that way again. It's a good thing Gokudera will do anything for the Tenth.

**A/N: **I watched episode thirty-nine of the anime. If they can have Infant!Reborn/Tsuna slash, then they can have Chibi!Gokudera/Tsuna slash. And I'm going to do it. Slash you have desired, slash you shall be given.

* * *

><p><strong>JUST FIVE MINUTES<strong>

**Chapter One: Pursuit of the Oblivious **

As obnoxious as Lambo's extroverted personality was, there was a small handful of desirable traits about him. Tsuna couldn't really think of any at the moment, as he idly clicked the lead of his pencil against the sheet of paper. His mind continued to wander, unable to remain focused on any other subject, save the wonder of the Ten-Year Bazooka that the Bovino possessed.

It was a weapon meant for the highest of authorities, he assumed without knowledge. The reason why it had been given to Lambo was unfathomable. The toddler was unreliable with such an extravagant tool of the Mafia, and he tended to disobey his elders and use the bazooka whenever it chanced to benefit him, be it in a conflict or in the confines of the Sawada home.

But no matter where the weapon was fired, it seemed to always end in a mishap of some sort. Every one had been unpleasant for Tsuna, but there had been one occasion on which he wished that the five minutes of the bazooka's effectiveness would never come to an end.

The time that his proclaimed 'subordinate' had been shrunk to the laughable height of early childhood. That accident was still very present in his thoughts, as he made sure it stayed there. To be honest about his opinion of Gokudera, he had little patience with the delinquent's impulsive actions - frankly, he would have appreciated it if Gokudera happened to disappear for several weeks.

But there had been something very different about the infant Gokudera's countenance. It wasn't vulnerability, Tsuna was sure of that. Even in a body hardly two feet tall, there was an imposing, threatening kind of glint in the bomber's aqua eyes. No, it was something much more precious than the aura of being vulnerable - it was most likely innocence.

Gokudera's round little face had not only been endearing to stare down at, but it also caused an oddly pleasurable sensation to foam in Tsuna's stomach. Normally Gokudera's gaze would have felt as though it was searing holes through his body, but this was an _exciting _feeling. Like euphoria or something, he realized.

It had felt amazing to be bigger than his subordinate. And he desperately wished to feel that way again. Sure, he was bigger than Lambo - not just by height, but in many ways - but that didn't make him feel lifted with glee. That would be setting the standards much too low. But Gokudera - he had many characteristics that Lambo didn't. Such as a small portion of talent, a large measure of intelligence, and an outward appearance of beauty.

Tsuna couldn't compete with that. He could compare himself to the Bovino child without hesitation or guilt, but he wouldn't dare compare himself to Gokudera. He couldn't top that.

"Forget this!" he exclaimed forcefully, slamming his soft palms onto the thin stack of homework papers. The tin of pencils rattled from the motion, tipping over and spilling the writing utensils across the desk. He ignored the prospect of tidying his work area, choosing instead to abandon his chores. Abruptly standing up, he stampeded from his room, snatching his jacket from the coat rack as he fled through the front door.

"Where are you going, Tsu-kun?" Nana called cheerfully, waving a dishrag above her head. Tsuna didn't pause as he made his way hastily down the sidewalk, pretending that his mother's words had been lost beneath the loud snapping sound of his sneaker soles meeting the pavement.

_Arcade - everyone's at the arcade_, he reminded himself, jerking his hand up to shield his squinted hazel eyes from the sheets of white sunlight. Lambo, I-Pin, Yamamoto, Haru - Gokudera. It wouldn't be difficult to draw Gokudera away from the rest of the crowd. Afterwards, he could ask his question - he would be praying that the answer would be a positive one. He'd ask quickly, before his confidence drained into nonexistence.

* * *

><p>"Tenth!" Gokudera turned at the sound of Tsuna's footsteps, instantly forgetting about the game he was playing and the yen coins that would be wasted. As he extended his hand, a jubilant smile brightened his features, stretching his lips to reveal unusually-pointed teeth.<p>

Not for the first time, Tsuna began to quiver with intimidation. The bomber didn't intend to give himself such a frightening image - he meant to be friendly and willing, but to Tsuna, someone who was easily startled, that wasn't exactly the type of attitude he emitted.

Tsuna slowly glanced down at Gokudera's outstretched hand, realizing that several coins were being offered to him. It very sluggishly clicked in his mind that Gokudera expected him to have come to the arcade to play.

_Isn't that what you usually come here to do?_ he questioned himself mockingly. Lifting his fingers to brush them across his nose nervously, he accepted the change and awkwardly shoved it into his pocket.

"Hey, what'd you want to play, Tenth?" Gokudera exclaimed, gesturing to the expanse of large, clumsy game systems. "Name it, and I'll clear it out for you!" Eagerly cupping his knuckles in his palm and cracking the joints sharply, he gazed at the target shooting game, where Lambo appeared to be on the verge of a noisy tantrum. The katakana for '_lose_' flashed onto the screen, and the toddler began to squeal in disbelief.

"Um... buh - ah, I mean," Tsuna stammered weakly, painful heat prickling his cheeks in the form of an embarrassed blush. He scrubbed his fingers through his tufts of auburn hair, wincing as he desperately wracked his knowledge of the Japanese language for something to say.

_ Great_ - _just when I think that I have enough moxie to actually saunter up to Gokudera-kun and start talking to him, I have to start acting like a complete wuss! _he wildly chided himself. _Such a wimp! Maybe I should act like I've gone Deathperate. No, that's stupid! I can't run around in my boxers just for an excuse to say something super humiliating!_

"Come on, Tenth," Gokudera urged, that patient smile still on his face. He grabbed Tsuna's trembling fingers, coaxing him into the cluster of his chattering companions. Haru, who was bent over a racing car game with I-Pin, had not yet noticed her proclaimed boyfriend.

"N-No, Gokudera-kun," the Vongola stuttered, embedding his heels into the stiff gray carpet in protest. "I need you to, um, c-come in here with me for a few minutes."

Swallowing forcefully in a vain attempt to choke back the bulging lump in his throat, Tsuna stared up through moisture-clouded eyes to observe Gokudera's reaction.

"Sure - what are we doing? Are we plotting?" the delinquent merrily released his master's fingers, pacing alongside the shorter boy contentedly. He seemed to sense nothing out of the ordinary, and Tsuna was certain that it was because of dim lighting. In the semidark surroundings, it was difficult to see the tears that festered in the corners of his eyes.

_I'm going to regret this_, he realized, grimacing as he was followed into the restroom. He hastily proceeded to swipe his wrist across his forehead, inhaling deeply with ill-hidden frustration. The rubber bottoms of his shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor, the high-pitched shriek being the only sound in the empty room.

"So..." Gokudera glanced around, the bridge of his nose crinkling with distaste. Shoving his hands deep into his pockets, his baggy denim trousers sliding crookedly down his round hips and being saved from dropping to his ankles only by way of his thick neon belt, he expectantly shifted, awaiting Tsuna's explanation.

"Ah... G-Gokudera-kun," Tsuna began anxiously, scraping his fingernail over his cheek with nervous want for something to occupy himself. "Well... would you do something for me? A favor?"

Those words seemed to ignite some sort of fiery loyalty in the bomber's mind, and immediately, Gokudera nodded with vigor.

"Of course - anything you want!" he stated happily. "Just you tell me what you want, Tenth, and I'll get it for you!"

Tsuna felt the heavy burden of guilt sink to his shoulders for taking advantage of Gokudera's devotion to him, and briefly decided that, in the tiny chance that reincarnation was possible, Gokudera would return to him as a puppy. A puppy that would constantly stay by his side, sitting in his lap, licking his face...

"I want you to be my baby for five minutes."

He gasped, the whites of his eyes engulfing the orbs of brown. The sentence had just plunged from his lips - he had been chanting it constantly for the past half hour, and his subordinate's submissiveness had just provoked him into actually speaking the phrase. This was more mortifying than he had expected - his round face was burning with crimson, and liquid fogged his vision until Gokudera's tense body was a mere smear of color and cigarette haze.

"I'm s-sorry, Gokudera-kun," he apologized, his voice clogged with despair. "I didn't mean it, not like that! I was going to say - " He was swiftly interrupted by the taller boy.

"It's fine, Tsuna," Gokudera easily comforted, the grin of hopeful anticipation somewhat faded and thin. "That wasn't... what I expected, but... if it would make you smile..."

At that moment, Tsuna realized just how badly he had startled his companion by that request. Gokudera had referred to him by his given name, rather than the title of 'Tenth.'

He had predicted correctly - he regretted his actions to a great extent. He would have retracted all of his words if that soft, disappointed, shy glitter in Gokudera's eyes would be replaced by the bold, confident shine that was the normality. But before he could give voice to his thoughts, Gokudera turned on his heel, bursting through the door in a hurried attempt at escaping the uncomfortable situation.

Tsuna leaned back against the wall, sliding to a sitting position. He curled his legs to his flat chest, resting his chin on the shelf his knees made. A sense of foreboding welled inside his middle as he pondered over why he had to have been so blunt. Did he always offend people when he spoke to them?

He wished Reborn was at his side to comfort him, to pat his chubby hand on the top of his head. But the image he conjured of the hitman quickly morphed into an infant version of Gokudera: Reborn's dark hair faded into a mercury-gray, lengthening to frame his smooth cheeks, and his black button eyes slowly stretched into angry-looking, exotic almond-shaped orbs of turquoise. His tiny catlike mouth tugged downwards in an expressive scowl, and Tsuna groaned, pressing his forehead against his knees.

This was uncontrollable, he muttered silently, resting the heel of his hand on the zipper of his jeans. Why was it that he was lusting to see his friend like that? Was he that eager to put Gokudera in a position in which he was practically defenseless against harm? He felt miserably foolish while he listened to the vague noises of the environment, and as he shifted his focus from his own troubles, he let the heat in his stomach melt away.

* * *

><p>It wasn't really hard to believe that they had spent all of five hours in the arcade, Tsuna mused. Yamamoto looked most stiff and uncomfortable - he was an athlete, accustomed to living outdoors and being active rather than sitting in front of a video game.<p>

Lambo continued to whine pitifully about the low quality of the games, as no well-made mode of entertainment would have caused him to lose so many times. Of course, he refused to admit his own lack of ability and blamed it on an inanimate object.

I-Pin and Haru were the only two who still retained their cheerfulness from that morning. The girls appeared as fresh and excited as they had before leaving the Sawada residence, not at all as though they had been indoors all day.

Gokudera walked next to Tsuna, but with an aura of disillusioned melancholy, as if he had been told to do so. Numerous times during their trek home, one of Gokudera's cheap brass rings would knock against Tsuna's knuckles, but both put effort into making the other believe that the contact had gone unnoticed. The Vongola detested this sensation of awkwardness that enveloped them.

"Hey," Yamamoto sleepily nudged his elbow gently into Gokudera's side, "I'm going back home. Did you want to walk with me?" His hazel eyes were half-closed, and when he touched his elbow to Gokudera's ribs, he didn't draw back, instead resting his weight on the smaller boy and letting his chin drop to the top of Gokudera's head.

"No, thanks," the bomber replied testily, indignantly peering from behind the curtain of bangs that Yamamoto had smashed over his forehead. "I'm going back to the Tenth's place."

At hearing this, Tsuna jerked his head up, hope washing over his insides. Perhaps their relationship as friends hadn't been completely gnawed away by his frank request. He _did _still desperately wish to have that inches-tall Gokudera in his sight, but he would prefer to have the normal Gokudera rather than none.

"Awright," Yamamoto yawned, pressing his palm to his mouth to quell the soothing action. "I'll see you tomorrow, m'kay?" Without further word, the tall brunette meandered away, his presence seeming to float from the small group as it disappeared.

"I guess I'm going, too," Haru stated unhappily. She instantly recovered as Tsuna cast her a wary glance, and she waved coyly in answer, her short skirt flapping around her thighs as she began to skip down the sidewalk. She bade her 'boyfriend' an innocent goodbye and was lost in the shadows of the twilight-shaded curb.

Nothing more was said between the two boys. Tsuna cradled the slumbering Lambo in the crook of one arm, balancing I-Pin on his shoulder as he wondered what he should say that could somewhat dull Gokudera's hurt.

Despite the delinquent still asking permission to visit his house, he wanted to make a show of his apology. He needed to be reassured that his friend wouldn't hold hostility against him because, in all honesty, he wasn't keen on the idea of being on Gokudera's bad side.

The Sawada home loomed into view, seeming to be much more threatening than it appeared in the early sunlight. Misty shadows clung to the sides of the house like tangled, mystical vines, and the light pouring from the slits in the window-blinds looked like luminescent yellow eyes.

"Um... we're here," Tsuna mumbled lamely, tucking Lambo's stout body into the bend of his other arm so he could fumble with the lock on the gate. I-Pin refused to wait for him to grant her entrance to the walkway, leaping from her place nuzzled into his neck to flee to the front door. Nana immediately appeared after hearing the timid knock, scooping the Chinese toddler up and waving for the others to hurry along.

"Ah! Tsu-kun, it's late," she reprimanded kindly. "Shouldn't Hayato-kun be with Bianchi-chan?" The blonde woman cradled I-Pin, pushing the door open wider to reveal a very impatient Bianchi. Gokudera hastened to avert his gaze, and Tsuna felt a pang of pity.

"Hayato, I've been waiting for an hour. It's time to go," Bianchi sighed, raking her fingers through her rumples of magenta-dyed hair. She rested her weight on one foot, her hip jutting to the side as she regarded her younger brother's countenance.

"What's wrong?" she inquired suddenly, genuinely concerned. It wasn't the mask of pain that came along with the nausea that Gokudera experienced around her, but something else. There was a hollow glare of contemplation in his slanted eyes, a look that Bianchi seldom saw.

"Nothin'," Gokudera replied, idly dragging the toe of his flip-flop sandal across the concrete of the walkway. "I wanted to stay here tonight." All gazes shifted to him, and he nervously curled his fingers around the single roll of tobacco that was nestled in the wrinkles of his pants pocket. He withdrew it slowly, not bothering to light the cigarette, just pushing it between his lips to self-consciously nibble on the bitter paper.

"Why, that would be fine!" Nana exclaimed, shattering the atmosphere of awkwardness. She clapped her hands together with bubbly enthusiasm, rattling I-Pin. "It's been awhile since Hayato-kun stayed the night with us. Isn't that nice, Tsu-kun?"

Tsuna didn't answer. He hefted his backpack over his shoulder, thrusting Lambo into Bianchi's arms as he pushed past. Gokudera trailed behind, murmuring a quiet expression of gratitude in Italian. The gloominess stuck, even after he departed, dulling even Nana's perky mood.

"What's wrong with those two? Isn't Hayato-kun feeling well?" she asked softly, accepting the bulky bundle that Bianchi passed to her. Lambo stirred, whimpering as he automatically pressed his mass of onyx curls of hair against her chest. Nana soothingly patted his head, awaiting the other woman's confidential answer.

Bianchi shrugged, reaching behind her back to pull her long tail of hair into a knot that rested on the nape of her neck. "Hayato is a strange boy," she commented. "But love can make you act that way."

Nana stared blankly, continuing to thread her fingers through Lambo's hair.

* * *

><p><strong>AU: **There's going to be one more chapter, and it will actually have Chibidera in it.


	2. Ended Before the Start

**JUST FIVE MINUTES**

**Summary: **Tsuna remembers that odd, yet pleasant heat in his stomach that had gripped him while he stared down at an infant Gokudera. He wasn't a pedophile - he just wanted to see if he'd feel that way again. It's a good thing Gokudera will do anything for the Tenth.

**A/N: **I watched episode thirty-nine of the anime. If they can have Infant!Reborn/Tsuna slash, then they can have Chibi!Gokudera/Tsuna slash. And I'm going to do it. Slash you have desired, slash you shall be given.

* * *

><p><strong>JUST FIVE MINUTES<strong>

**Chapter Two: Ended Before the Start**

Tsuna dropped his knapsack on his bed, very aware of Gokudera's stare. He could feel the warmth crawling up his spine to burrow at his hairline, causing a stubborn itch to root itself there. He absentmindedly scratched, kicking away the heaps of miscellaneous articles of junk to clear enough out enough space for his guest to seat himself.

"Um... you can throw your stuff anywhere you like," he offered, sliding a small hill of wrinkled, unwashed dress shirts beneath his bed. He snatched the pillow from underneath the checkered quilt, letting it fall at the table. He brushed the magazines away with his forearm, sliding them from the tabletop to make room for his elbows.

"Thank you, Tenth," Gokudera politely issued his thanks and sat down on the pillow, crossing his legs and resting his palms on his bare feet as Tsuna coughed idly, plopping to the floor. Gokudera lightly chewed on the end of his cigarette, wanting to light it but not bold enough to do so in Tsuna's presence.

It felt as though the boys were each waiting for something from the other, but neither one knew exactly what it was.

"Gokudera-kun," Tsuna exhaled deeply, twirling a lock of red hair around his forefinger as he mustered the courage to explain the emotions that had possessed him earlier. "I'm s-sorry about today. I didn't know it'd hurt your feelings or anything. A-And I wish I could take it back. It was stupid..."

He let his voice break into silence as he realized that this was something he would say to a girl. Those were words he would say to Kyoko, if he happened to offend her in any way. This wouldn't be an apology that a young man would accept without further complaint.

"It's okay," Gokudera assured in a subdued tone, surprising Tsuna with the ease of his acceptance. "It's not you. I'm not mad or anything... 'S'just that whenever... no, never mind," he laughed humorlessly. "Just don't think I'm mad at you. 'Cause I still like you, Tenth," he added playfully.

Tsuna sucked in his breath, knowing painfully well that what Gokudera meant by 'like' was much different than what he wanted him to mean. Gokudera managed to remain oblivious, so stupidly oblivious to the agony he was causing to wrench in Tsuna's midsection. He could say 'I like you' as a joke? Then Tsuna would go along with that.

"And I l-like you, too," he teased weakly. His milky skin paled as he noticed the expression of grief flash over Gokudera's features, and everything in the world seemed to halt to a complete standstill. Nothing moved, breathed, or even lived anymore.

Tsuna felt the familiar constricting of his throat - this was exactly why he tended to stay serious. He rarely was able to say something in a joking manner without the entire attempt at humor falling flat.

Genius, he sarcastically muttered beneath his breath. He moodily glared up, panic stabbing his extremities as Gokudera pushed himself up, standing unceremoniously and jerking his jeans back up his hips. An expression of determination darkened his porcelain cheeks and creased his forehead as he padded from the bedroom, not giving a word of reason for his exit.

* * *

><p><p>

Tsuna waited, closing his teeth over his bottom lip to stop it from quivering. This was one of the worst days that he had suffered through in quite some time. He hadn't a clue as to where Reborn might have been secluding himself, which made his troubles all the more difficult to take.

Normally, Reborn would give him a few choice words - not necessarily words of comfort, but words that would, ultimately, be of benefit to him. He hadn't really realized how much he would miss the Mafia tutor if he was taken away from him.

Vaguely, he listened to the noises that floated up the stairs. His mother's voice was a dull hum that mingled with Bianchi's in subdued conversation, and he could hear Lambo and I-Pin squabbling loudly in the dining room. Soon, the Bovino began to shriek rather loudly, rattling the tuna fish-shaped nameplate that hung on the bedroom door.

"Get lost, Stupidera!" he squealed, evoking a sharp yip of surprise from I-Pin. An obvious thump followed, and Tsuna sighed, cupping his forehead in his hands. Was it wrong of him to have forgotten the idle days passed with no one but his mother? Because now, he missed them more than anything. He longed for the peaceful nights of which no noise could be heard, except for the relaxing buzz of the air conditioning unit and the melodic squeaking of nocturnal insects.

"Hey! Give it back, Stupidera! I'm going to go tell Mama!" Lambo wailed.

Tsuna didn't think much of the cry at that moment, since Gokudera and Lambo were not on the best of terms and argued constantly. But the instant that a series of clattering footsteps drummed through the hall, his face brightened with anticipation.

"Here, Tenth," Gokudera panted as he fairly flew into the bedroom, cradling the cumbersome Ten-Year Bazooka in his arms. His legs trembled slightly, and his threads of silver hair were mussed and hanging over his eyes, drawing attention to the way the spheres of aquamarine glittered with submissive humiliation. Almost as if he was mustering every piece of will he could to keep from breaking into tears.

Tsuna had certainly seen Gokudera cry before - not often, or over anything of major importance, but he had witnessed the brief sessions of sorrow before. He didn't care for the way it made his insides flutter, but to know that it was his fault made it worse. He really was selfish, but at the moment, he wasn't too concerned with improving his image.

"Give it here." He boldly smacked his palms against the weapon, pulling it from Gokudera's possession before the sobbing Lambo happened to come in pursuit. He didn't give either one of them ample time enough to panic, despite being wary of the ominous atmosphere - he struggled to tip the bazooka upright, recklessly jamming it over Gokudera's unprepared body. The metal stretched over the teenager shoulders, engulfing him until he was hidden in the depths of the gun.

Tsuna didn't really know what he was doing - he had replayed the situation over and over in his mind, and even though this was exactly how he had imagined it, everything felt different. What happened in a matter of seconds seemed to stretch on endlessly, the movements of his surroundings being slow and thick as if underwater.

His finger hooked on the thread that was attached to the trigger of the bazooka, and the moment he plucked it, a mushroom of coral-colored smoke exploded upwards, pink wisps spiraling to dispel against the ceiling. The deafening pop resounded in his ears, and before he could shake his head to clear the smog from his eyes, that high-pitched voice began to whine out his name.

"T-Tenth... did it work?"

_Oh, Lord_. Tsuna clamped his hand over his mouth to quell the groan of adoration that was biting at his throat. Gokudera was staring up at him with those doe-like eyes, tears pearling in the corners of the blue orbs as he shyly pressed his soft fingertips together. His clothes had shrank along with his inches-tall body, even down to the large rings that decorated his chubby fingers.

Without answering, the redhead crouched down, leaning until he was level with Gokudera's new height. He didn't bother to try choking back the fear of being reprimanded - he slowly slid his knuckles across the infant's closed eyelid, smearing the warm tears away.

"Don't... don't make that face," he mumbled, his skin darkening to a rosy shade as he glanced at the shiny film of moisture that coated his knuckles. Gokudera obediently ducked his head to let his bangs slide over his face, keeping his expression concealed.

"I'm sorry, Ten -"

The remainder of his sentence came out muffled and incoherent as Tsuna's arms wrapped forcefully around his small, rounded midsection, squeezing without thought of his fragility. Frightened by the sudden gesture of affection, Gokudera said nothing, tensing as he felt the Tenth's muscles quivering against his cheek.

"And don't be upset with me, either," Tsuna muttered, a bold note lowering his voice. He slid his hand into Gokudera's mop of nickel-colored hair, pressing the bomber's head against his shoulder. "Please, Gokudera-kun... if this is the last thing that you ever want to do for me, just let me have these five minutes with you. Just five minutes," he pleaded.

When only silence was his reply, he tucked his fingers beneath the infant's chin, tilting his face upwards in a forcible command for him to speak. Gokudera's supple, peach-pink lips were taut in a subdued frown, and Tsuna, in a last effort, brushed the callused pad of his thumb against the wet skin.

"Tenth!" Gokudera exclaimed in exasperated indignation, closing his own chubby fist over the Sawada's finger and pulling it back to touch his mouth. His brows furrowed as he summoned enough strength to tug Tsuna's shirt collar roughly, yanking him down until Tsuna's nose knocked painfully into his broad forehead.

"Tenth..." he whispered hoarsely, the word grating in his throat as he desperately buried his smooth hands in Tsuna's thick, auburn hair. "Does it really have to be just five minutes?"

Something about the gentle hope in his tone cause the nerves to shatter inside Tsuna's chest. Perhaps it was his self-constraint or his ability to keep himself in check that had been broken, which was why, at that instant, he snapped. All of the control he claimed began to evaporate - the defenseless baby with whom he was in love with happened to be in his arms; they were alone with themselves in his room, and nothing could be done by anyone to enhance the outcome of the ordeal.

Tsuna spread his palm over Gokudera's stomach, pushing him against the carpet so he was lying on his back, his tiny fingers still embedded in Tsuna's scalp. A startled, breathy gasp broke from Gokudera's glistening lips as he was winded by the impact - Tsuna never treated anyone in such a careless manner.

Mangled thoughts zigzagged wildly through his mind as the Vongola began to ghost his fingertips across his round cheeks, tickling them - slowly, Tsuna dropped his head, a surge of courage spurring him on at seeing how helpless Gokudera was, being made to be so small and weak in strength. His ready mouth briefly made contact with the baby's wide brow, barely touching the silken flesh.

The delinquent shuddered, Tsuna's awkward teenage hands gripping his doll-sized body with fierce intent of satisfaction. He hadn't ever really thought that the Tenth would be the one to do this to him - he hadn't expected to have been told to use the Ten-Year Bazooka for such a purpose.

It wasn't that he completely abhorred the concept of intimacy with Tsuna, but in a situation where he wasn't given the opportunity for voicing his opinion on the matter, he was uncertain of how he wanted everything to turn out.

Tsuna grunted some unintelligible warning as he pinched Gokudera's short nose between his fingertips, fitting his pursed red lips over the smaller boy's warm pink ones. A buzz crept down Gokudera's back, wrapping around his hips to settle in a compact ball inside his stomach. It felt almost like static electricity, causing his skin to tingle as he pushed his face against Tsuna's. A terrible gnawing clawed his innards, and in desperation, he thrust his lips hungrily against the redhead's, attempting to soften the bitterness that swelled in his core.

In shock, Tsuna yanked away, unconsciously passing his tongue over his bruised bottom lip as though checking for any signs of injury. He hadn't anticipated that his actions would be returned - he only wanted a quick session with Gokudera, a brief few minutes of physically intimate gestures that would aid in helping him to forget about everything that was happening in his life.

He only wished to have someone steady to look up to, someone who wouldn't change, even though every other thing he had depended on was now pitted against him or had drifted away. His frustration had built, and after so long, there was little he could do to stop it from continuing.

As if he had just been backhanded across the face, the teenager stiffened, round eyes widening with the realization of his actions. Gokudera whimpered at the sudden cease of activity, reaching up in a silent plea to be cradled. Tsuna scooped him up, pressing his small nose against the infant's rumples of hair as he meekly grit back tears of frustration and anxiety.

_Why am I doing something like this?_ he asked himself viciously, hugging Gokudera against his thin chest as if he would never again be given the opportunity to touch him. The baby nuzzled the underside of his chin, uncomfortably shifting in Tsuna's embrace. They had just then been entangled on the floor, their mouths connected by webs of saliva - so why was it that now, after having evoked an unnatural heat of excess emotion in his mind, that Tsuna had decided to stop? Had he been doing so only for the purpose of taunting him?

_Just because I'm so weak, and can't face any challenges myself, doesn't mean that I have to drag Gokudera-kun into this. It's cruel of me to use him just to forget about everything... because no one else will put up with me for long..._

"Gokudera-kun..." Tsuna mashed the side of Gokudera's face to his shoulder, massaging circles into his back just to occupy his hands. His mouth burned from the bruise, but that didn't deter him from madly desiring to do much more than just brush his lips against Gokudera's. Even so, that was what he had wanted from the bomber. His request had been fulfilled dutifully, and that was all he expected.

It would be spiteful of him to cause the infant any more humiliation. Gokudera had proved his loyalty, and that was all that he asked. He wouldn't make him stay any longer. He was fearful of the possibility that, if Gokudera did remain in his arms, that he would soon be trapped in something that he couldn't escape from.

"Go home," he demanded, ungracefully letting the baby plop in a heap to the floor. "Hurry - get out before Mom sees you," he whispered weakly. "You'll change back before you get home, I'm sure."

Gokudera stood, anchored to the floor and unable to move. What had caused such an abrupt change in the mood? The Tenth had been kissing him with a heated passion, and now he was demanding that he be gone from his home? Was he not good enough to satisfy the Tenth's wants?

He vastly regretted having obeyed the Vongola's last command as he spun on his heel, pressing his forearm to his eyes to hide the sudden tears that sprung to swirl in his field of vision. His footsteps were nearly inaudible as he fled, but the provoking sound of his clogged sob was perfectly clear in the late night atmosphere.

Tsuna sank to his knees, the threads of carpet digging into his skin as he helplessly mulled over what he had committed against his companion. He had held Gokudera, he had kissed Gokudera, and he had blatantly, horribly insulted Gokudera.

It hurt to be the antagonist.

* * *

><p><p>

From his place hidden in the comfortable crook of a cherry blossom tree, Reborn observed the scene through Tsuna's bedroom window, an amused smile curling his tiny catlike mouth. His large, dark eyes were void of emotion as he allowed Leon, the shape-memorization chameleon, to crawl languidly onto his short arm.

"Sawada Tsunayoshi," he murmured pensively, spreading his palm as the lizard stepped into it. Leon began to morph, his scaled body blurring as he took on the structure of a toy-like pistol. Reborn's smile widened as he lifted the gun, flicking back the furled brim of his fedora with the barrel of the weapon.

"Tsuna, right now, you're desperate, and have nothing. Become Deathperate, and gain it all back."

* * *

><p><p>

**A/U:** I guess this is where it will end. I feel pretty crummy right now, anyway. Got the crud from somewhere. Probably Wal-Mart.

I tried a new writing style, as you may have noticed many thousands of words ago. My mother was criticizing me for writing the way I do - she said it seemed too 'mature' for the 'silly' things I write. So I tried a simpler style, which I find to be harder. I need opinion on which style would benefit the most, or if it fluctuates depending on the type of literature.

Oh, yes - another note: Lambo's bazooka hadn't been repaired yet, hence the Chibidera - who made a much shorter appearance that I would have liked. I wanted this to be a very short Chibidera/Tsuna fluff fiction, so why did it end up as a long, no-pairing angst drabble? Twisted human mind :S


End file.
